Stress As A Form of Spiritual Guidance

My stomach is in knots. I've spent the last hour or so in a constant battle over the status of the contents of my stomach ("in? out? in? out?"), and that's on top of finally getting a real meal down my throat for the first time in 36 hours.

My appetite seemed fine right up until I realized I was going to be flying back into the complete and utter mess that is lovingstones, lavendersage and penguin_goddess. The situation seems so hopeless as to have hope. NOTHING could be THIS hopeless, therefore it must not be AS hopeless, therefore there be hope. An optimistic stretch, to be sure, and one reflected in my gastronomic state.

I'm also exhausted. Despite getting more rest this weekend than I've managed in weeks, I'm completely toasted. That might be related. My dreams tend to be somewhat more active when I'm agitated.

Ironically, after spending the weekend in a place where triple digits are normal, I find myself the least COMFORTABLE, at least temperature wise, that I've been over the last few days. After all, EVERYTHING is air conditioned in that part of Arizona. This means that even if I were to fall asleep right now, I would suffer from feverish dreams. Trust me, my mood really sucks after those, so I'll await coolness.

I had a blast this weekend... Roni knows some extremely talented people. I even had one of those amazing once a lifetime moments where you score a callback so hard... let me set this up a bit better.

It's important to know this wasn't the Rocky Horror PICTURE Show, but the original musical (no "Picture, right?). As such it was set up a LOT differently than the movie in spots, including an entire sequence where Brad and Janet have a post coital digression/depression duet. The Narrator (who DOES have a neck, one should note!) leads into the song by responding to Brads utterance when he spies Janet and Rocky having sex in her room, "It's over, with "But what was over?"

Now, this was a full participation night, but even the most devout fan would have no stock responses to this line. Yet, as the actor took in a deep breath, in the complete silence, I delivered a perfectly enunciated and projected single word:

"Acting!"

And it stopped the show.

I mean it LITERALLY stopped it, as the crowd completely lost it. Even the actor broke the fourth wall, shot me this intense glare, smiled, and waved his fingers at me... and I realized he was acknowledging the delivery of the perfect zinger.

Roni leaned over into me, gave me a big hug, and laughed out "Oh, I so love you Honey!"

I would have paid TWICE the money I did this weekend, plane fare and all, for that particular memory... and the feeling it gave me.

Before I got down anything else, i wanted to express that, if only to remind myself (and everyone out there) that my life and the situation, as sick, as it makes me, isn't completely sucky.

A quick review of the show? Think of what would have happened it RHPS had been directed by John Waters, and starred Divine. Magenta was played by this hot little plump thing who had a set of pipes on her... and legs so muscular I thought I would cream the inside of my kilt. Then there was the other cute boy, plump and in drag, with an ass that made my mind go places, even AFTER I found out he was another friend of Roni's. All in all, it was a great performance.

Anyway, I have to go and try not to think for a bit. Bets are on with odds against managing it.